


The Deal

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Carl Grimes, Bad Parenting, Bisexual Carl Grimes, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Hurt Carl Grimes, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, One-Eyed Carl Grimes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Post-Canon, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), RP to FF, Sad Carl Grimes, Slightly OOC Negan, Slightly OOC Rick Grimes, he’s just a bit less of an asshole than usual, only at first though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rick makes a deal with the Whisperers, but Carl's the one who pays.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Go check out my wonderful co-author, mikanekokawaii! This fic could not have happened with out her, and she deserves just as much credit as me (probably more tbh). Thank you, Mika! I'm excited to write the rest of this fic with you :)
> 
> (See end notes for chapter warnings).

The change was almost surreal.

First, the Whisperers limited the group's’ frontier, and took the lives of various people from Alexandria and Hilltop; people that were important to them, people that didn't deserve such a fate.

Then, in the middle of the morning--without even giving the Alexandrians time to bury their dead--a group of those fuckers came again, Alpha demanding to be left alone with Rick. The two leaders spoke for about an hour, the walls of the house keeping their conversation private. When they were finally done, they came back outside, and the Whisperers left; but Carl’s father informed him in a hard voice that they needed to talk. The teen had gulped, and entered the house hesitantly.

Alexandria was calmer than it had been in a long time. But the community was just in the eye of the storm; because soon enough, the shouts and curses between father and son echoing from the Grimes’ house made it sound like the world was ending--again.

 

***

 

Carl stared dumbfoundedly at his Father, sure he had heard the man wrong.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked, his tone one of utter disbelief. "Did you just say I have to marry h-her?!"

Rick sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Lydia is a pretty girl, son," he said desperately. "I thought you liked her anyway?"

Carl slid down the wall, settling on the floor with a loud thud. "You know what she did to me," he whispered, betrayal shining in his eye. "You know what those people are like!"

"It was just sex," Rick spoke firmly, though the lie felt like broken glass in his throat.

Carl looked up at his father, tears trailing down his cheek, his mouth set in an angry line.

"She raped me!" He screamed, the words tearing from him like an avalanche. "It wasn't sex--I didn't fucking want it! I begged her to stop! But she kept doing it--she kept raping me!"

Rick turned away from his son, unable to bare the distraught look on his face. "Women can't rape men, Carl. It's impossible."

Carl gaped at Rick's back, not wanting to believe that his own Father was saying such things to him.

"I hate you," he whispered, standing up on wobbly legs. "I fucking hate you."

With that, he walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

***

 

Carl didn't know where he was heading when he left Alexandria. 'I need to get out of here,' had been his only thought.

But after about three hours of nonstop walking, he realized how close he was to the Savior's base.

"Fuck," he whispered, beginning to turn around, when suddenly, an idea came to him.

Smirking, he walked towards the grayish-brown factory, keeping an eye out for any guards. When he was about twenty feet away, hiding in the brush, he tossed a large rock against the fence furthest from him, hoping to draw the guard’s attention away. His plan worked better than he could imagine, because suddenly, a gaggle of walkers came shuffling out of the treeline, seemingly attracted by the noise. Quickly, Carl crouched low to the ground and rushed to the nearest fence, slipping under it while the savior on watch was distracted.

Having successfully snuck into the Savior’s compound, Carl fervently began his manhunt for certain bat wielding maniac. Though the teen hated to admit it, he needed help--and fast. Because no way in hell was he marrying Lydia and joining that freaky ass cult if he could help it.

About twenty minutes later, between hiding and sprinting the fuck away from any Savior that got too close for comfort, Carl finally located Negan. He spotted him through a tinted window, speaking harshly to one of his underlings. Just as the teen was about to alert the man to his presence, he felt the familiar cool metal of a gun’s barrel pressed up to the middle of his spine, as well as a sticky, hot breath on his neck.

“What. The fuck. Are you. Doing here?” The voice hissed, scratchy facial hair brushing up against Carl’s ear uncomfortably.

Carl felt panic begin to rise in him, but he willed it down, swallowing hard as he spoke. “Bring me to Negan,” he ordered, voice cold. He felt the gun shift slightly, and then he was spun around, coming face to face with a man he recognized as Dwight.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot your other eye out right now,” the man snarled, his burned features contorting grotesquely.

Carl let a satisfied smile crawl up his cheeks, eye narrowing slightly. “You and I both know Negan would iron the rest of your face off if you hurt his favorite ‘little serial killer.’”

Dwight visibly paled, and, clenching his jaw tightly, he grabbed Carl’s arm, beginning to drag the teen to the lead Savior.

 

***

 

"I came to make a deal," Carl stated loudly, cutting Negan off before he could speak. "I have an...interesting proposition for you," he added mysteriously, knowing it would intrigue the older man. "But I don't deal with minions, so let's talk somewhere more private," he suggested raising his brow, making the scar that Negan loved so much more visible.

"Well, hello to you too, kid," Negan said, blinking repeatedly in surprise and amusement. “Come in, please. My compound is your compound.”

Carl was guided by Negan to his bedroom, one of the man's calloused hands placed on the boy's back. Once they finally arrived, Negan closed the door, locking it so no one would interrupt them.

"I'm all ears, little serial killer."

Carl steeled himself, turning to Negan with a serious look. "I appreciate the hospitality," he said flatly, leaning against the wall.

"Anyway," he continued in the same tone. "I'm here to offer my services in return for yours."

"Kid, don't get polite on me," Negan answered, smiling as he sat on one of the couches. "What do you want from me? And more importantly; what do I get in exchange?"

Carl stared evenly. "I want the Whisperers gone, same as you. But I'm willing to offer a little extra to entice you," he admitted. Taking a deep breath, he revealed his intentions. "Help me destroy those crazy fucks, and I'll be your soldier, just like you wanted."

Carl saw the man think for a moment, hand scratching his bearded chin.

"I have the impression that there's something you’re hiding from me," Negan hummed with a thoughtful look. "I know everyone has his thing with the Whisperers-- because yeah, they are some crazy assholes--but you look really desperate to get rid of them. There's something more. What is it?"

Carl narrowed his eye, anger getting the best of him. "None of your damn business," he spat, leaning forward intimidatingly. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"Woah. Calm the fuck down, kid. I'm not your dad or any of the Alexandrians; you treat me with some fucking respect.” Negan noticed how Carl stiffened at the mention of his father, a spark of anger shining in his eye. "Ah... I know what the problem is. So tell me, what did your dad do this time? I'm curious.”

Carl felt his emotions turn off, abandoning him just like they had when he'd killed his mom.

"If you really want to know, he traded me," the teen said nonchalantly, brows raised again. "I marry Alpha's daughter, and Alexandria is no longer a target."

Carl felt a little flare of pain in his stomach, but he squashed it like a bug, knowing he needed to stay cool and indifferent for now.

"Your father fucking married you off?" Negan asked in disbelief. "You’re kidding! We're in the 21st century, for fuck’s sake!"

"Desperate people do desperate things," Carl stated, mouth set in a hard line. "But unfortunately for my father, I'm not desperate." Carl’s eye was ice cold, his face a stony mask of dangerous indignation. "I'd rather throw myself into a herd of walkers rather than show such disgusting weakness," he hissed, contempt practically dripping from his voice.

"That kind of thinking is what I look for in my men," Negan said with a wide smile. "I accept your deal, little man."

Carl didn't smile, simply nodding instead. His emotions were still numb, and he intended to keep them that way. "Good. When do we start?"

"First thing’s first, boy," the Savior’s leader said seriously. "You look like shit. How long has it been since you've slept? Eaten? I can't have my soldiers being physically weak, so you better hurry the fuck up and fix that.

"Second, we need a plan--and a good one. I'm not sending my men to an imminent death. We have to avoid the loss of as much people as possible."

Carl ignored Negan's concerns for his health, scowling when his stomach grumbled slightly at the thought of food. But when the older man brought up the need for a plan, he interjected quickly.

"You can send us in however you want, so long as I get to kill Alpha's daughter myself," he said darkly.

"The blonde young lady? I know she is a little stupid, but what did she do?" Negan asked, tilting his head as he grabbed his walkie. "Simon, bring something for the kid to eat, I don't want his guts growling like a bunch of walkers."

"I'm afraid I'll have to plead the fifth on that one," Carl said, pushing himself off the wall languidly. "It's a personal matter."

"Okay, fine. I ain't gonna get under your skin anymore, at least for now." Negan said, nodding.

After some minutes, Simon entered the room with some food and water for Carl.

"Eat up, kid."

Carl stared at the food for minute without moving, before giving in to his hunger and beginning to eat silently.

Negan watched the boy eat and then glanced at the window, noticing it was already dark. "You'll have to stay here."

Carl nodded, knowing that trying to leave for Alexandria in the dark was basically suicide.

"I'm assuming I'll be sleeping in a cell?" He asked, thinking back to what Daryl had described about his time in this place.

"You’re a guest, kid, not a prisoner," Negan reminded the teen. "You’ll stay here until I find a better place for you.”

"Your room?" Carl asked incredulously, masking how uncomfortable the thought made him.

"Yeah. I’d prefer to avoid people killing you for that little stunt you pulled a while back, so it's better if you stay here. And by better, I mean this is the only place you won't be brutally murdered," Negan explained.

"I can handle myself," Carl growled slightly, offended at the perceived insult.

"Maybe, but you can't fight against more than one man at time--who all have guns, by the way--which is what you'd be doing,” Negan answered seriously, brows raised.

"You would be surprised," Carl said vaguely, holding Negan's gaze. But after a moment, he sighed. "Fine. But I'm sleeping on the damn couch."

"What? You thought you were sleeping with me?" Negan snorted. "I've got wives for that, boy."

Carl didn't smile.

"I don't assume anything about anyone, anymore," he said gravely. "So I always set boundaries, regardless of what I think."

With that, the teen started towards the couch, sitting down with a dull thud.

Negan sighed heavily, surprised. "Damn kid, lighten up a little,” he advised, suddenly no longer in a joking mood. "You'll grow old before your time.”

"There are no kids left in the world," Carl said ominously, starting to arrange the couch so it would be as comfortable as possible. "They died a long time ago. Anyone who's still alive now is simply a witness, because we're all just beating hearts and aching bones waiting to die like everyone we loved. We’re torn skin and haunted eyes that’ve seen more than our fair share of death and destruction, and age no longer plays a part in that.”

“What a poetic little shit," Negan said, forcing a chuckle, even though Carl’s solemn words made him feel anything but jolly. "Which website did you get that from? Tumblr? It just sounds so... cliché."

“What's Tumblr?" Carl asked, nose wrinkling in confusion.

Obviously ignoring him, Negan walked behind the couch, pulling roughly on the back.

"It shifts into a bed, smart boy," he said, reaching over to the bed and handing Carl a pillow. He then took his jacket and boots off quickly, laying down on his bed with a sigh.

After watching Negan settle into his own bed, Carl cautiously leaned back against the pullout couch, hugging the pillow tightly to his chest.

'What have I gotten myself into?' He wondered to himself as he stared up at the ceiling.

 

***

 

It had been hours since they'd spoken, but Carl still hadn't stopped moving noisily on the couch, and it was keeping the Savior’s leader awake.

Negan mumbled like a small child as he got up, stumbling groggily to where Carl was sleeping on the couch, kicking the wooden leg.

"Kid, get the fuck up and go to the fucking bed, ‘cuz I swear to god if you keep moving around like that, I'm going to Lucille you.”

"What?" Carl said sleepily, rubbing the tiredness from his eye as he sat up slowly. "I didn't--I didn't hear you."

"Get in the bed, you're moving and shivering like a fucking stray pup in the rain," Negan answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Come on, kid. I don't have all fucking night.”

Carl blanched. "I'm not getting in your fucking bed," he hissed, standing up and moving behind the couch, away from Negan. "I told you that earlier."

"I'm not asking,” Negan said, rolling his eyes. "Get. In. The. Fucking. Bed. Now."

Carl watched Negan sigh and roll his eyes again when he refused to move, turning around and beginning to walk away. Just as the teen was about to relax, the older man whipped back around, grabbing his arm, beginning to drag him to the bed.

But the second Negan touched him, Carl's mind was no longer in the Sanctuary.

First, he was facedown in the dirt near the train tracks to Terminus, unknown, grubby hands down his pants and the slimy laugh of the man on top of him ringing in his ears.

Then, he was suddenly on his back in a valley of rolling, grassy hills, silent tears falling from his sole eye as Lydia bounced on top of him, her disgusting tongue licking the puckered skin around the socket of his missing eye.

"Stop," he whimpered, his brain stuck between the worst two moments of his life. "Stop, stop!"

Distantly, Carl heard a voice telling him to calm down, but it was too far off, fading away as he felt a pressure on his shoulders. Thinking it was Lydia or the Claimer man or both--he couldn't tell them apart anymore--he screamed, beginning to thrash about wildly.

"Let go! Stop! Stop! P-please," his voice broke on the last word, desperation clear in his voice. He couldn't breath, no matter how fast he sucked in air, he couldn't seem to get enough.

"S-st-to-p-p," Carl choked out, no longer sure who he was talking to. Just as his eye was about to roll back into his head, he felt something gently cover his mouth and nose, causing him to take much slower breaths.

Though the feeling was uncomfortable, and he was afraid it was Lydia's or the Claimer man's mouth, it was helping, so Carl welcomed it. After a few moments, his breathing was finally steady, and his mind was less foggy. He felt sheets beneath his fingers instead of grass or dirt, and he used the sensation to make himself realize he wasn't being attacked.

Finally reentering the present, Carl became suddenly aware of Negan's face hovering above his, worry and confusion playing across the older man's features. Startled, Carl scrambled away until his back hit the headboard.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, trying to disguise the fact that he was trembling fiercely.

The teen saw Negan frown, dark eyes growing sympathetic. "The Whisperer girl raped you,” the man said quietly, having connected the dots.

Carl stiffened, gaze lowering sharply. "Women can't rape men," he quoted bitterly. "It's impossible."

"Kid, you're smarter than that," Negan huffed, looking almost disappointed in the teen. “Look, if someone makes you put your dick somewhere you don't want to, that's rape. It doesn't matter if it's a man or a woman, if they don't have your consent, they’re raping you.”

"Those weren’t my words," was Carl’s only answer.

"Well, whoever told you that is fucking wrong," Negan stated. It was obvious that he felt bad for the boy, knowing that he had been through something so horrible. "Use the bed. I'll go… make sure no one is sneaking around, or whatever."

With that, Negan grabbed Lucille, walking out the door.

Carl waited a moment to make sure the older man was really gone before hopping off the bed, grabbing his pillow from the couch and settling on the carpeted floor.

"This is fine," he whispered to the dark room, curling in on himself for warmth. Images of death, war, and pain flashed through his mind, and he closed his eye, clenching his teeth. "This is fine."

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: mentions/flashbacks of rape, swearing
> 
> If you like this fic, you should check out my Non-Apocalyptic Cegan AU: Incarcerated :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
